…an indefinite suspension of
the possible, the is.from “Getting
Lost” by Laton Carter

When a person studies and plays music,
he or she will eventually encounter long-standing and traditional "rules"
to follow. If that person is making music in a "jazz" style,
there is usually an additional, and specific, set of rules. It is not
news that some historians and critics are emphatic that these rules
should consistently be followed in order for music to be made — often
to the exclusion of new rules, or modes of thinking, being born. This,
of course, is fine for historical music, but an artist convinced of
the necessity for exploration will inevitably, and unabashedly, create
new rules and directions for him or herself. In order to do this, however,
an artist must be willing to venture into that place where criticism
is heavy, and the possible is often deemed impossible — or unacceptable.
This CD is available for purchase on-line from Black
Hat Records, Amazon.com
and CDBaby.

Dusted Reviews

Improvised music, the term woefully and increasingly inadequate,
is forced to contend with multiple intertwining histories. For me, post-modern
reference and juxtaposition have become less satisfying modes of exploration,
mainly due to overuse. I’m always impressed to hear diversity channeled
through some sort of overarching compositional vision, nebulous but palpable,
that can unify a disc of the most disparate material.

An Indefinite Suspension of the Possible, multi-instrumentalist
Michael Cooke’s most recent offering, was an extremely pleasant surprise.
Clearly, instrumentation goes some way toward setting the group apart from countless
other similar-sized ventures - check the unlikely combination of koto, trombone
and cello. Here, my high expectations were validated; while the group’s
influences are clearly audible, they are also extremely varied, ranging from
the harmolodically drenched in-your-face thrust and drive of “Hard 8”
to the meterless Orientalist whispers, metallic rustles and soft moans of “Love
at Twilight.”

The way in which sound is presented and group interplay is
fostered turns the disc from mere homage to statement. Every player is also
a listener, displaying willingness to speak out and to step aside in equal proportion.
The sudden drops in volume as soloists switch can be both unnerving and exhilarating,
lacking as it is in many “free jazz” settings. Beyond that, the
players are obviously engaged with the compositions themselves; when cellist
Alex Kelly takes a solo on “Hard 8,” he constructs his line from
fragments of the Colemanesque head. Every player is similarly inclined, the
koto work of Shoko Hikage being especially noteworthy. Sparse yet bursting with
energy, Hikage’s contributions embody the disc’s multivalent roots
in every tremoloed and bent utterance. Trombonist Jen Baker was also a revelation,
always ready to lend support in lower registers with terrifying swells and rumbles
while also an absolutely lyrical soloist.

These musicians have found themselves in excellent company
before, but this unit boasts great compositions in equally convincing interpretations.
They foster Cooke’s vision, complementing his saxophone, clarinet and
flute work with a sonic pallet that is adventurous without succumbing to superficiality.

A wonderful depth of sound and
style is to be found on this oft reminiscent release. Taking the intriguing
mixture of cello, trombone and koto (the Japanese stringed instrument which
is layed on the ground and plucked) for a full spin around its realm of interesting
possibilities while Michael Cooke takes a dance with every wind instrument
he can get his hands on, these (for jazz) youngsters deliver a surprisingly
mature and thoughtful work which often exudes joy without jumping out of its
track. This is the truly pleasant surprise of this work - how it encompasses
such a rich degree of feeling yet still manages to sound largely as a single
piece. Repeat listens are well rewarded, but there is plenty to behold on
the first pass, even for jazz neophytes. Tracks are longish, and a bit weighty,
although sparse in sound at times. A welcome entry from a group with a lot
of potential. Suspend your disbelief, don’t worry about what’s
possible, and enjoy what has already been realized.

On An Indefinite Suspension of the Possible, multi-reed player and composer Michael Cooke leads a quintet with a highly unlikely instrumentation through seven original compositions that draw from a dizzyingly eclectic array of source materials. Though the quintet’s basic sound could be described as “avant-garde jazz’, there are multiple layers in Cooke’s compositions that draw significantly upon different world musics (Klezmer, Northern Indian ragas, Australian Aboriginal music, etc.). The band’s instrumentation includes koto (a traditional Japanese stringed instrument), cello, and igil (a Tuvan stringed instrument) in addition to more typical jazz horns and percussion.

The band members themselves have converged from different musical worlds to play Cooke’s music. Koto player Shoko Hikage is, of course, deeply involved in Japanese traditional music. Cellist Alex Kelly and trombonist Jen Baker both have extensive experience with alternative rock and various forms of classical music from Baroque to contemporary. The musicians’ depth of experience in diverse settings plays out surprisingly well throughout “An Indefinite Suspension of the Possible”, as Cooke’s music never seems like an eclectic pastiche. Yet, all are convincing improvisors.

They start off with a bang “Hard 8” opens the CD an impressive blast of post-Ayler free jazz that manages to be both melodic and chaotic. I particularly enjoyed the way Hikage worked her delicate, spidery koto into the interstices between the horns and Tim Orr’s percussive fusillades. “Ha-Me’aggel” is a multi-sectioned, Klezmer-derived piece that frames Kelly’s mournful rubato cello improv between frantically rhythmic sections driven by Cooke’s skirling saxophone and Baker’s droning trombone. Oddly, Orr seems to be a bit lost on the more uptempo parts of this piece, but it all hangs together nonetheless. “Harmonic Rebellion” provides another blast of red-hot free jazz energy, with Cooke’s big-toned tenor riding crashing waves of percussion.

The remainder of the CD is surprisingly atmospheric. “Loss” is a Klezmer-tinged dirge featuring Baker, Kelly and Cooke on bass clarinet. Titled after the coordinates of the site where a late friend’s ashes were scattered, “N 36 7.46 W 121 38.36” is a slow-paced lament that intersperses bursts of heated free improv with more thoughtful ruminations. Orr is particularly effective here. “Love At Twilight” starts out with an extended rubato section which showcases Hikage’s koto, Cooke (on flute), and Kelly’s wonderfully sonorous igil. The piece gets progressively denser and more frenetic as Baker adds buzzing trombone multiphonics and Orr switches from shakers and bells to drumset.

The multi-sectioned closer “Chain of Existence” brings the quintet’s disparate ethnic, classical, jazz, and free improv elements together in surprisingly cohesive fashion. In a way, this one compelling*piece sums up what Cooke’s music is all about. The combined focus and free-wheeling energy of the free-bopping section of this piece (“Event II”) and Hikage’s gripping koto solo on “Event III” make it clear where the real strengths of the Cooke Quintet lie.

Michael Cooke plays all kinds of reeds (in this occasion flute,
soprano, alto & tenor sax and soprano & bass clarinet), being also a
composer who tries to reach a fusion point between his many influences -
which include John Zorn, Klezmer and Indian music - while keeping an
attentive eye on the single paths walked by the instrumental entities of his
quintet (Jen Baker on trombone, didgeridoo and singing bowl, Shoko Hikage on
koto, Alex Kelly on cello and igil, Timothy Orr on drums and percussion). It
amounts to a nice effort by an unconventional gathering of sensitive artists,
seven tracks for almost 70 minutes of music that explores various themes, not
only in music but also life; as a matter of fact, two improvisations
("Loss" and "N 36 7.46' W 121 38.36") are memorials for
persons that Cooke loved very much - his two grandmothers and a dear friend -
and both are veiled with conscious, pensive sadness. Even the 15-minute final
suite, "Chain of existence", is referred to unspecified
"personal events" which affected Cooke's growth. These feelings
aside, the record brims with pugnacious loquacity alternated with spiritual
depth and inquisitive-minded playfulness, helped by the strange timbral
juxtapositions of the ensemble. The instrumentalists know their chops inside
and out but never for a moment the music sounds manufactured, getting its
energy from the very interplay that these akin souls are able to continuously
generate and aliment with what I'd call "devotional fantasy". A
mouthful of fresh fruit for new jazz aficionados.

Free jazz led by sax/clarinet, but with lots of other elements, including
some Klezmer composing influence and violin and koto in the band. Nice local
stuff that tries to add some new ideas to the jazz motif. Instrumental; FCC
clean.

On (AN INDEFINITE SUSPENSION OF THE POSSIBLE) Michael Cooke leads a diverse
of instrumentalists through a contrasting collection of original pieces. Besides
the sax and woodwind-wielding leader, we also encounter a koto player, a trombonist
who doubles on didgeridoo, a cellist who doubles on something called an igil,
and a drummer. The unique instrumentation helps differentiate the music from
similar groups who trade in the “new thing”. The compositions
are quirky and varied and they succeed more often than they fail in leading
the group into fertile improvisational spaces. The playing is energetically
raw at times and glacially mournful at others with the odd sonority of the
koto providing a unique counterpoint to the more-or-less standard Free-Jazz
blowing. In the final analysis, the exotic timbral elements and the varied
compositions gave this set a leg up on similar groups plying these same waters.